


On the Radio

by Megara Bee (Megara_Bee)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Zombie AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 19:21:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2439953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megara_Bee/pseuds/Megara%20Bee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a prompt floating around tumblr: <br/>Being reunited after surviving the zombie apocalypse unknowing if the other was alive or dead AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Radio

The radio message was definitive: It was over. All of it, the years of struggling and fighting, of bleeding and crying, had finally come to a close. The crop dusters with The Cure had been flying overhead for weeks, just as Belle had started to wonder if this nightmare was ever going to end.

The Walkers had seemed resistant at first; the yellow clouds filling the streets had barely slowed them down. For weeks Belle had been experiencing the human side effects: blisters on her neck and in her armpits, blood in her saliva, headaches constantly. The bandana tied around her mouth was dirty from constant use. It would be worth it, the voices over the radio had promised. The Cure would finally end their struggle, if people could just hold on a little longer.

After a few weeks (and many, many crop dustings) the Walkers had finally slowed. Their limbs fell off, their aggression dimmed, until finally they were just piles of parts blocking the roads. It took a month and a half for the last stragglers to die off.

But now, according to the radio at least, it was over. They were all gone. The broadcaster was too excited for Belle’s taste, fucking jubilant. Life would never be the same again, so what was the point in celebrating?

“We encourage any and all survivors to regroup in Maine. The area here is being rigorously cleaned; the air is almost fresh again!” There was a pause. Belle listened from inside the cab of her truck. Could it be that this mysterious voice was finally losing cheer?

“I think it would be good for all of us to come together. We’ve been fighting this fight for so long, we’ve lost so many people along the way… it’s time for humanity to come together again. It’s time for us to be _human_ again. Come to Maine. We’ve moved into a town called Storybrooke. It’s out of the way, but it’s fairly undamaged. It’s a nice place to start again.

“Please come join us. We’ll be expecting you.”

The voice faded away. A song started playing, one Belle was vaguely familiar with. “Somewhere, over the rainbow…” the singer crooned. She pushed the knob to shut it off.

Maine. She had been alone for so long… the idea of being around people again was repulsive. A pang of fear, of sadness, ran through her and she shoved it away. “We’ve lost so many people along the way”, he’d said. How fucking true. She’d lost everyone.

The time of tears was long behind her, but Belle couldn’t help feeling the loss again as though it was yesterday. She remembered too keenly the sound of her own screams ripping through the air as Walkers filled the field. Rum was on the other side, setting fire to the Zombie den. It was his job. Their job. Humanity’s endless pursuit to survive.

They were cut off. She’d been climbing out the window of the truck, trying to get him, when David grabbed her legs and hauled her back.

“He’s gone, Belle! We have to go!”

“NO!” she’d screamed. She’d kicked him, scratched at his and Snow’s arms as they held her. “No! We can’t leave him! I WON’T LEAVE HIM!”

Her last glimpse of him, the man she loved, was of his brown eyes searching for her amidst the field of Walkers. She saw his eyes take in the danger, find the truck. He looked so afraid. Then he set his jaw and nodded. David took off.

Rum was gone. Belle didn’t stop crying for days. She had become a puddle, forcing David and Snow to take care of her as if she was a child. She hadn’t cried again since.

Belle reflected on the other people she’d lost, the ones she’d left voluntarily. David and Snow were almost certainly still alive; their team fighting was unbeatable. There had been others in the last three years, other people Belle had fought alongside and ultimately left. Mulan. Red. They were probably alive too.

Rum was the only person she’d ever cared about to be taken by Walkers. The only death that had ever hurt her.

But maybe some of the others survived. Maybe they’d go to Maine, to Story-bob or whatever it was called. She could start over.

Belle turned the key in the ignition, and headed for the interstate. It was worth a shot.

* * *

 

“Look Gold, you’re not pulling your weight around here.”

“Oh yeah? And who made you King of the refugees, David?” Rum snapped. He had no interest in the other man’s condescension.

“I’m just saying we need you on the front lines. Organizing people, running this town… it’s what you’re good at.”

“I have no desire to lead; that seems to be your new job. I’m happy here running inventory. I’m good at it. So unless you’ve been hearing complaints, why don’t you fuck off and leave me in peace.”

David sighed. “I see you’re as pleasant as ever.”

“The Walkers certainly thought so. Get out.” Gold turned back to the dusty counter and continued cataloguing the ammunition. He heard the bell on the door chime as David left. Rum sighed.

In truth, he just wanted to be left alone. He’d been living here in Storybrooke for the last six months. There had already been a small community here, including his old pals, and with their medical supplies he was walking better than ever. He stroked the golden handle of his cane with his thumb. It was a daily reminder of the day in Kansas. The last time he’d seen Belle.

When he’d arrived here in town and seen David and Snow, for a moment his heart had leaped with joy. He’d screamed her name, running on his broken leg down the main street before David and Snow could grab him, stop him.

She wasn’t here. Worse than that, they hadn’t seen in her two years. No one here had seen her.

She was probably dead.

Life had always been cruel, but some cruelties were worse than others. The loss of his son had been bad enough, but combine that with losing Belle… it was a fate worse than death. He had holed himself up in this shop and made himself their clerk, organizing and dealing out supplies as needed. It was mindless, but it was work. It was being useful, and mot importantly it allowed him to be alone.

Some days he let himself imagine that she had made it here with David and Snow, that she had been waiting for him. He imagined the last six months as full of her laugh and her smile. He wished fervently for it to be the truth, as though he could wake up one morning and she’d be in bed beside him as if she’d always been there…

He hated himself for imagining. It made him weak.

He gently touched the gold band around his third finger. There was no point in wishing her back to life. There was a point to counting and cataloguing the ammunition, however, so he forced himself back to the boxes in front of him. People would be arriving soon and he’d be busy. There was no time to waste desperately wishing that death could be reversed; there was no time for silly fantasies. There was no time for hope.

* * *

 

Belle hadn’t seen the freeways this full since she was a child. There were cars, caravans full of people traveling. And every time she had to stop for gas, someone else was there too. They smiled and waved at her and said things like “Can you believe it?” and “Home at last!”

She picked up a few stragglers herself. By the time she reached Maine, her truck bed was full of boisterous people. She couldn’t begrudge them their happiness, but she didn’t share it. She just drove.

Eventually they reached a battered sign welcoming them to Storybrooke. A short mile after that, she had to park. The roads were crammed with cars; people were parking them in the street and running into town. Belle couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen so many uninfected bodies in one place.

The people in her truck thanked her and took off, sprinting towards their imagined paradise. She decided to walk.

Within an hour she was in town. There were sign-up tables, collecting information on new arrivals, and Belle immediately found a friendly face.

“Belle! You made it! Congratulations on surviving the apocalypse,” Red smiled at her, revealing her large canine teeth.

“Nice to see you too.”

“We just need your name and any injuries requiring treatment. That way we can keep track of people. To be honest, we never expected there to be so many survivors.”

“I can see that. No injuries,” she said, moving around the table.

“Hold on, I need your whole name. In case there are multiple Belles.”

Belle winced, looking down at the ground. “Gold,” she said, “Belle Gold.”

* * *

 

“I know you want to hide in here all day, but we have plenty of new volunteers. You need to eat, Gold. I’m ordering you to take a lunch,” David said.

“Ordering me? So you’ve officially claimed the throne, then.”

“I’m running things until we all get settled. It’s a little hard to hold a democratic election when hundreds of new voters show up every day.”

Gold sighed. “Fine. But I’m not eating with the masses. I’ll take a lunch and bring it back here.”

“No, you won’t. You haven’t seen the light of day in weeks. Go outside, get some air. And yes, that’s an order,” David called as he left the store currently functioning as their supply base. There were hundreds of boxes now, and many people sorting through them. It was a good thing these newcomers were bringing supplies; they had been sorely underprepared.

He left the store (after threatening to drown anyone who messed with his precise system of organization) and headed for the local diner, surrounded by dozens of picnic tables and people eating hastily-prepared lunches. He went in the back. Pilfering an apple and a turkey sandwich, he slipped back out and hurried away from the crowds.

He walked away from Main Street. A few blocks down the road was a small park. Unfortunately many people had had the same idea. There was one bench in the shade, overgrown with moss that no one seemed to want. It would do.

* * *

 

Belle milled around for a while. She tried to avoid the crowds, stay in the shadows, but eventually more friendly faces appeared.

“Hello David, Snow. Nice to see you.”

“Nice to see you?” the petite woman said. “More like amazing! More like so-glad-you’re-not-dead, Snow, this is the best day of my life!”

Belle chuckled.

“We missed you, you know. Two years and no news. I’m glad you made it,” David said.

Belle smiled, shook his hand.

“But we can’t be selfish, dear,” Snow chided. “She’ll want to go see Rum.”

It was like the world had been ripped from underneath her. Suddenly there was no air in her lungs, no air in the world anymore. Her vision fogged over. They were saying things but she couldn’t hear them.

“What?”

“She doesn’t know. David, go find-”

As if it were a movie, the world seemed to shift into perfect order. The crowds parted and Belle could see a man who looked just like Rum a few blocks away, heading towards her. He was limping down the street, cane in hand, scowling at the ground. His hair was long (just the way she liked it) and had a lot more gray now than the last time she’d seen him. It was a perfect, slow-motion moment.

And then it ended. She sucked in a deep breath and her feet were moving before she had even thought to do it. She was tearing down the street, throwing people out of her way; her throat was burning and she was screaming his name.

“RUM! RUM!”

She saw his head snap up. She recognized her own feelings on his face: disbelief, amazement, love.

“Belle! BELLE!” He started running, his gait awkward but his speed impressive. They were flying towards each other.

They collided.

Belle threw out her arms and he did the same, sending his cane clattering to the cement. Their force was too great and they fell to the ground. Belle was panting, crying, and Gold was doing the same; she buried her hands in his hair and rolled until he was atop her.

“You’re alive, you’re alive!” she panted.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered, eyes darting across her face. They kissed, both desperate. His arms slid beneath her shoulders.

They kept their eyes open as they kissed, each afraid the other might disappear. They stayed in that position for several minutes until someone kicked Gold in his good leg.

“Come on, you two. You have a room. If I were you, I’d make use of it,” David said. Snow slid her arm around his waist, nodding in agreement.

They parted long enough to struggle to their feet. As soon as he had his cane in hand, they were pressed together again. Rum slid his free arm around her shoulders, drawing her to his side, and Belle slid her hand in his back pocket.

“Yes sir,” Gold gave a mock salute. Belle cocked an eyebrow at him, but he just shrugged.

“I forgot how you two did that silent talking thing. It’s still creepy,” Snow chirped. “But seriously, you have a lot of catching up to do. Get the fuck out of here.”

Belle felt herself smile for the first time in years. She turned her head against his chest and let him lead her down the unfamiliar road. They didn’t speak until they were inside a small apartment, apparently his.

He limped into the living room and sat down on the couch, patting the space next to him. She sat there, leaning against him with her face tilted up so they could make eye contact. It was so, so important that they keep eye contact. She didn’t want to look away for a second.

“I missed you,” she said, chewing her lip.

“I thought you were dead,” he said.

“Does that mean you missed me too?”

He laughed. “Yes, yes it does. You still don’t feel real.” He stroked her cheek.

Belle started to cry. She snorted and blushed. “I’m sorry, I’m not much of a crier.”

He wiped them away as they fell. “Really? The Belle I knew cried all the time.”

“Well, that Belle died when you did. Or when I thought you did.” She pulled herself upright and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing their foreheads together. He grabbed her hips. “I’m so sorry, Rum. I should have stayed. I should have fought with you. I should have fought harder, or come back…”

“Don’t apologize for that, don’t you dare,” he said, his voice belying his own swelling emotion. “I made David and Snow promise me that if we ever got separated, they would protect you. They did what I asked.”

“I hate that day, Rum. I hate that I see it every time I close my eyes. I have hated every second that we’ve been apart, and I hate the person I’ve become. I just wanted to get back to you… to be the person I was with you.” She was crying freely now.

“Shhh, sweetheart. It’s okay. I’m here… I changed too, you know. We’ve both changed.”

There was a moment of silence. “Do you… do you still want to be with me?” she asked. She hated herself for being vulnerable.

He laughed. “Of course, dummy. You’re my wife,” he said, lifting her hand with the wedding band and kissing it. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. We’re different, Belle, but we’re still _us_. Aren’t we?”

She nodded.

“I promise to love you no matter how much you’ve changed Belle. Assuming you’ll do the same for me.”

She gave him a small smile. “Yes, of course. I love you with all of my heart, and that will never change.”

“I feel the same. Now we have two options: we can either talk all about the last three years, comparing scars, or we can fuck until we pass out and deal with the rest tomorrow. Which would you prefer?”

He smiled at her and she smiled back, their souls suddenly light for the first time in years. She kissed him, returning to the passion they’d shared on the road. Her fingers found their way into his hair and his wasted no time in sliding down the back of her jeans. He pushed forward until he was lying atop her.

Belle grabbed the front of his dress shirt and ripped it open, buttons rolling across the floor.

“Hey! I liked that shirt.”

“I’ll find you a new one,” she muttered, kissing her way across his chest. He grabbed the hem of her tank top and tugged it over her head, tossing it to the ground. He was delighted to see she wasn’t wearing a bra. He bent his head to lavish her breasts with attention. He squeezed one, the perfect size, and sucked the other nipple into his mouth. She gasped and arched her back.

He chuckled. He pinched her nipple and rolled it while his tongue circled the other, switching off now and again. Soon Belle grew restless and shoved him up. She tugged what remained of his shirt off his shoulders and unzipped his jeans, working them off his hips. He was already hard, cock straining against the soft fabric of his briefs. He stood, gently taking his jeans off.

She gasped when his leg came into view. He blushed, cleared his throat, looked away.

“Broken escaping from the Walkers that day. I spent two months walking through corn fields and forests, trying to stay hidden. By the time I got help it was too damaged...” he said, wringing his hands.

Her eyes watered again. “Can I see it?” she asked.

He kicked off his shoes and jeans and set his leg on the edge of the couch near her chest. She leaned forward and gently ran her fingers over it. “I’m not hurting you am I?”

“No, it’s not sensitive to the touch… unless you punch it or something.”

“I’ll take note of that in case you piss me off.”

She looked up at him, smiling at her own joke. He didn’t laugh, seemed unsure, as if a scar would be enough to make her change her mind. She pressed her lips to his skin, kissing the wound several times.

“You’re so strong, Rum. You may have gained some scars, but you made it. I’m so glad you made it,” she said, beaming up at him. “Now we can be together!”

“Damn straight,” he growled, pushing down his briefs. Belle had opened her jeans and was in process of shoving them down when he grabbed the legs of her pants and yanked them off in one smooth move.

“Don’t rip my panties, please, they’re my last good pair.”

“I’ll say,” he said, tugging them off gently. He balled them up in his fist and held them to his face, breathing in.

“Ew! Those cannot smell good. They’re caked in sweat!”

“They smell like you. God I’ve missed your smell,” he said, kneeling on the other end of the couch. He hunched over, pressing his face to her abdomen. He kissed the sensitive skin there, moving slowly down to her sex.

“Seriously babe, I haven’t showered in weeks. Maybe we should postpone the oral sex.”

“Shut up,” he growled, swiping his tongue up the length of her. She gasped, moaning as he probed her with his tongue, circling her entrance before moving up to tease her clit.

“Oh FUCK,” she cried, gripping the couch, back arching. “I forgot how good that feels.”

“Well then, have I got a treat for you…” He looked up at her and grinned as he sucked on two fingers, wetting them with his tongue before sliding them into her. She swore, letting out a shaky breath. She couldn’t hold back a huge smile.

He soaked up her happiness as long as he could before he was overwhelmed with his desire to make her scream. He kissed her clit once, then circled it with his tongue. Judging by her squeaks and sighs, she was still more sensitive on the left side. He pressed his tongue flat against her and curled his fingers.

Belle keened. He sucked her clit into his mouth. “Jesus Christ, are you going to tease me all day?”

“Well I used to be pretty good at this. I thought I’d see if I still had it.”

“Trust me, you’ve got it in spades. Please just fuck me!”

“Come for me first, then I’ll consider it.”

“Bastard.”

“Would you have me any other way?”

“No,” she said, crying out when he added a third finger and returned his attentions to her clit. He swiped his tongue across it again and again in different patterns, delighted as Belle began to cry out more and more. Her nails dug into the upholstery and her hips bucked up; she came with a loud cry, her inner muscles squeezing his fingers.

He pulled them out and sucked them clean. When he moved to lie atop her, Belle pushed him back onto his ass. “Oh no, I don’t think so.” She straddled his lap, reaching down to stroke his cock and line them up.

He grabbed her hips, thumbs stroking her skin. He looked up at her with admiration. “You’re so beautiful, Belle.”

She blushed, tucking her dark hair behind her ears. “You’ve always thought so.”

“It’s the truth. Now are you going to fuck me or do I have to do all the work?”

Belle rolled her eyes. With a smirk she sank down onto his cock, shifting until she had taken his whole length. He reached around, placing his hands on her butt and giving it a squeeze.

“Oh fuck, this is it. This is paradise,” he said, tilting his head forward to press his face against her chest. She ran her hands through his hair with a chuckle.

“Oh really? What about when I do this,” she asked, rolling her hips. He groaned, and kissed her torso. She laughed. Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she started to ride him. His cock moved in and out of her easily. Belle mewled with every downward motion, sinking down as hard as she could to feel him filling her. Soon, he had regained thought enough to thrust up as she came down. They both cried out.

Picking up their pace, he used his hands on her sides to guide her to a perfect rhythm.

“Oh fuck yes, that’s it. Fuck I missed you,” he growled. Belle clung to his shoulders, laughing as she rode closer and closer to a second orgasm.

“Just wait, you’ll be sick of me soon. I’m not let you out of my sig-” She was cut off by a particularly good thrust, a yelp ripping from her throat. She focused back on her movements, Rum doing the same.

Soon they were coated with sweat, movements frantic and clumsy. Rum slid a hand down to where they were joined and pressed his fingers against her clit. He pushed against her as she moved. Belle cried out more loudly, digging her nails into his skin as she reached the final stretch.

“Rum, Rum…” she whimpered.

“Oh Belle… Belle!” He came with a gasp. Belle followed close behind, throwing her head back and keening as her body shook.

She collapsed forward against his chest; his arms wrapped around her back, holding her close. Rum pressed kisses along her jaw, down her neck.

“Mmm. That was remarkable. I love you, Rum.” She pulled back enough to see his face, to touch his cheek.

“I love you too,” he whispered, tears poking at the corners of his eyes. “I never thought I’d be this happy again.”

“Oh? I was expecting a Round 2.”

He laughed. “I’m an old man, sweetheart. It might take a little while.”

“Well why don’t we move to the bedroom? I want to kiss all your new scars and make a new map of your body.” She skimmed her fingers up and down his arms.

“Only if I can return the favor,” he said mischievously.

“Deal!” She smiled, the radiant grin he’d been waiting three years to see, and kissed him.

Sliding one hand down to her butt, he tightened his grip. “Hold on!”

Belle laughed (and worried) when he stood up. She threw her arms around his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist. Limping, he carried her to the bedroom.


End file.
